One Hot Slice of Perfidy
by Xelias
Summary: ...discretion would hardly be necessary were it not for his stark naked nemesis sitting benignly across from him, but that would hardly be Hell, then, would it? It’d just be… Hell Lite, maybe. Really rather pleasant. [language, sexual content]


A/N: Well, it's finally here: the product of far too many 3, 4, and 5ams. It's best read at that time as well. This is the terrifying result of my secret experiment with commas and italics. Unspeakable horrors lie beyond this point. No smut, per se. But for what it's worth, Jinnai needs to get some tail and everyone knows it. Word. Katsuo = Groucho. R&R. This is my FINEST accomplishment yet—! 

One Hot Slice of Perfidy

            For what was admittedly not the first time in his life and certainly not the last, Jinnai ran like hell. He ran with the speed and stamina known only to a truly desperate man over the desolate terrain that formed the outskirts of Bugrom territory. In perfect honesty, he really had no idea where he was headed, but it tended to be the norm that those who escaped from previous horror generally didn't care _where_ they wound up as long as it was as _far away as possible_ from where they had just come from.

            How had it come to this? A slightly misjudged attempt at world conquest left him with a significant dearth of followers for a good while, and repopulation in the most efficient way possible was the only logical solution. Diva, do your thing. That was pointedly before the degree to which he was required to partake in said repopulation was made clear to him _and_ before he realized that the "thing" in this instance was in fact he, himself. Jinnai wouldn't deny it— he conceded, if only to himself, that it _had_ been fun at first, namely with Diva's more private areas being quite mercifully human; though he took great pride in his role as a conqueror, the fact still remained that he was a _seventeen_-year-old conqueror in a land where he had thought himself unlikely to get any action of the particular sort for quite a while. And thus it became unworthy of his notice, pushed to the back of his mind. He hadn't… realized how tightly wound he'd become, just under the surface.

            Heaving hard, he forced himself up the steep ledges that marked the beginnings of the neutral area between the Bugrom Empire and Roshtaria. The air burned in his lungs, yet he knew that to turn back was to resign himself to a fate worse than death— worse than torture— for it was all that and more: a demise by ceaseless, pitilessly unrelenting sex. If, by some miracle this did not occur, then he would surely meet his end when his purpose was fulfilled; as much as Diva always admired him, he was growing steadily more paranoid that the common insect practice of devouring one's mate would come into play at some point soon after… 

It pained him to give up his empire— his soldiers— but there was no time for such concerns anymore. This was about _survival_. At least Katsuo, though extremely emotional in the process, had helped him escape, sneaking in after the tenth hour or so on the third day to loosen the bonds while Diva paused to eat or rest or whatever it was that she _did_ during those blissful periods of respite. Ah, Katsuo… loyal to the end.

And now he found himself trudging weakly over rocky inclines, forest, wetlands, and all manner of other bothersome terrain to his goal: the Holy River of God. His primary concern was not so much crossing the river and entering Roshtaria by this point as it was simply reaching a source of water— days of travel piled atop his aforementioned… activities left him dangerously dehydrated by this time. However, he sensed his salvation was quick in coming as the earth grew moist under his shoes and this assumption was proven true scant hours later as he fell prostrate before the bank of the great river.

He hadn't counted on blacking out.

He awoke to a regally sloping ceiling and not much else. Though he seemed to be bound by the wrists once more, he found himself oddly comforted by the realization— at the very least, he wasn't staring up at Diva's makeshift love-shack any longer. Well, it was really more a love-tent. He shuddered.

Jinnai had a few epiphanies at this time. The ache in his body assaulted his senses almost immediately as he became acutely aware of a painful throbbing through his right leg. He ground out a curse, only to realize just how dry his throat _was_. And, only now did he have the sense to wonder where in the hell he was being held…

The room was ornate, but managed to stay one step shy of gaudiness. On the far wall was a portrait of two familiar sisters, presented in all their stoic (an undeserving title for the one with Makoto's face, or so he thought he knew… and how fitting, at that!) beauty. The view from the window as he turned his head presented a rich tapestry of people, buildings, and activity far below, and judging by the position from where he watched alone, he could only guess that this was the Royal Palace in Floristica. Floristica…

"Ah, shit."

No sooner had the expletive been uttered than the door burst open. His head fell back on the pillow with a groan; Fortune just wasn't on his side these days…

"So you're _actually _showing your face around here, Brother? I didn't believe it when I heard you were really here. You know, you've got to be pret-ty stupid to come around after all the dumb stuff you've done…"

He bolted up only to be forced back down due to the limitations of his bonds, suddenly having no trouble at _all_ finding his voice.

"Nanami! If you intend to sell me out, you better believe that I'll make you—"

"Lord Jinnai, please calm yourself."

Both siblings turned to the source of the smooth, but no less worried voice of Rune Venus, who stood at the door with her hands folded and brow knit. She took a few tentative steps into the room, looking with some distaste at either his current condition or at the sight of him period— he didn't know. But either way, it did nothing to help the sour mood brought on by the residual pain combined with the face of his sister and he felt the immediate compulsion to do something… something… _malicious_ to her.

"… Can I help you, Rune Venus?"

She looked a little surprised at being treated with such civility, forced or no, and stole a glance at Nanami's disgruntled expression before replying. "In time, yes. But for now, I would offer you the humble advice of remaining calm, lest you incriminate yourself further."

Rune paused for a moment. "You are being detained here instead of the dungeon because of your injuries. As you may or may not have noticed, you have been unconscious since you arrived two days ago. However, with your impending recovery and due to your past actions, you are to be kept under careful supervision at all times." 

Jinnai shot a poisonous glare at Nanami. She flatly responded, "It's not me, you nut."

"No," the Princess continued. "I was actually given a request on behalf of someone you know—"

Not Makoto. Not Makoto. Not Makoto.

"—Lord Makoto."

If he could just chew through one arm, he could get out of here. But then he'd be out one arm. Damn. Would he have to play nice again?

"He will arrive shortly. If that is all…"

Thoroughly incensed, he called to her retreating back, "Or you _could_ just execute me, you know. Better than leaving me here with that rat bastard all da—"

The princess did not look amused as she turned to face him before disappearing into the corridor. 

"That remains to be seen."

Great day.

If only there was a clock in the room. Jinnai had no idea whatsoever how long he'd been waiting already. One thing was for sure; Makoto was taking his sweet time getting here. Though in a way, he almost had that to look forward to. 

True, he was incapable of using his hands, but he could still happily spit in his archenemy's face with no real difficulty if he so desired. Too lowbrow? Well, time would tell. Or it would if he had anything available with which to tell time. Which he didn't.

Damn, and just when he was really starting to get into it, _he_ appeared. All smiles, was he? Jinnai saw through it.

"Feel okay?"

He was going to kill this swine. Right now. Right now, end it _right now_ this was the ideal opportunity he could jump out the window and no one would know hey Makoto could you untie me?

Fuck. That clearly wasn't going to work. Makoto ruined everything.

Bastard.

"Hey, lighten up, Jinnai!" he beamed down at him as he sat on the edge of the bed, prompting Jinnai to shift away to the best of his ability. Makoto naturally didn't notice. "I'm gonna do my best to make sure they go easy on you. Not even you deserve to be _executed_."

The nerve of him and his false compassion! Playing the saint so it'll make you look good, are you?

Makoto looked wounded and he realized he must have said that out loud. "N-no, I'm not…"

"Don't make me laugh! It's an ingrained trait of yours! The only thing more deplorable than your sanctimony is that you think you can get away with it!"

"Should I…" the boy smiled helplessly, apparently at a loss, "come back later?"

Silence. That was a jug of water in his nemesis's hand. He desired it greatly. 

"Untie me."

"I can't do that—"

"Release me now or I'll _die _of thirst and _then_ where will you be?! Do you think I'll be satisfied with your punishment at the cost of my demise? Think again!"

Makoto was starting to look the least bit exasperated. "What in the world are you _talking_ about? …Anyway," he continued brightly, "I can't let you go unless you have to take a bath or a piss. I think it's a little harsh, myself, I mean, the door's locked anyway and you'd die if you tried to get out the window at this height. Maybe I'll try to negotiate something better in a couple weeks."

"A couple weeks?!"

"Well, you _did _try to take over the country. _And_ you nearly caused the annihilation of El-Hazard. They don't take very kindly to that here."

"…"

"Jinnai," Makoto said in a reproachful tone. He wasn't angry. Just disappointed. "Why did you threaten war on the Alliance?"

"_What?!_" Jinnai's voice shot up an octave as his hands strained sharply on the bedposts. "I did no such thing!"

That seemed to trouble the other boy significantly. "You didn't? But we received the message yesterday morning. Ambassadors are trying to negotiate with the Bugrom now."

"How the hell do you plan on doing that? None of you can understand them." Of course they couldn't. Only the rightful ruler of the Empire and the _world_—

Makoto sagged. "Well, we're working on it. The threat was a little hard to misconstrue, though, you know?"

Another pause.

"Well, it's… it's good to see you again, Jinnai," he offered. Getting little more than a snort as a reply, he sighed and followed his friend's lusty gaze to the water jug. "Oh, you're thirsty, huh?"

"No shit."

Jinnai spasmed violently and immediately as Makoto's hand slipped behind his head and tilted it up, followed closely by cool earthenware pressed to his lips. A second more of desperate flailing and he found himself extremely… wet.

"What the hell are you _doing?!_" And how did he have the nerve to look so taken aback? He was clearly more deranged than Jinnai had previously thought. Y'know, what with the crossdressing and all.

"Well, I can't untie you, so I figured you'd need a little help. That's all…"

"I can lift my own head!"

"S-sorry. Uh, here, then…"

As soon as he got loose, and as soon as his body stopped being broken, he was _so_ dead. Nevertheless, the much-needed hydration was a godsend. Sad as it was, he conceded that it was, in many ways, a step up from gradually being sexed to death. What a way to go, some might say. They obviously never actually saw the opportunity in their lifetimes. Add to this the consideration that Diva was very… utilitarian in the sack, to say the least, and you had yourself quite an exhausting time. 

After fully draining the container of its fluid gifts, he sunk back against the pillows. He gave his brace-clad foot a rather nasty glare only seconds later as a fresh stab of pain lanced its way up his leg. This was not lost on Makoto, whose sixth sense derived its power from demons and the like.

"Sprained ankle. It's pretty bad, from what they say."

_Don't tell me what's bad, Mizuhara. And who in the hell constitutes "they"?_

"I wouldn't walk on it for a while."

Beat.

"No offense, Jinnai, but you stink!"

"Impudence!" Jinnai roared, straining against his unfortunate tethers in a valiant effort to curl his fingers around Makoto's pretty little neck. "You and my personal hygiene are polar opposites on the spectrum of greatness! You should be bowing before me! The very thought of the notion of the idea is— Hey! Don't ignore me!"

This had to be Hell. There was no other possible explanation as to why he was sitting here, completely exposed, right leg throbbing while in this ridiculously large bathtub, fully immersed from the nose down by his own discretion. Said discretion would hardly be necessary were it not for his stark naked nemesis sitting benignly (HA!) across from him, but that would hardly be _Hell_, then, would it? It'd just be… Hell Lite, maybe. Really rather pleasant.

"Jinnai, why were you at the Holy River of God?"

"…"

"Come on…"

"Dblrb." Diva. Not that _he'd_ understand.

"Um, oookay."

The _bastard_.

"So," Makoto offered helpfully, "want me to scrub your back?"

"Gbdrbblhblb." 

Which translated, of course, to "God, I hate you."

Should the water be _violently assaulting_ his various wounds like this? Jinnai thought not, but apparently the water thought otherwise. This was only natural, as Makoto was sitting in it with him. Makoto could bend the very forces of nature to screw him over, and not only that, but he could _smile_ while he was doing it. Pure evil, he was. And somehow he was the only one who recognized that. Pure evil. Pure, naked evil, undiluted by clothing. God, he was naked.

"Jinnai, how are you still breathing like that?" he wondered as he began to noisily sidle his way over, approaching, nearer still…

Splash! "_Don't._ Come any closer, Mizuhara."

Makoto heaved a mock-sigh, the treacherous rat, and closed the distance between them, settling down right beside his pale, strategically-curled body. Ever the shyly encouraging grin plastered on his loathsome face, he proposed once more: "Come on, already. Face that way."

It wasn't that he was cooperating. Of course not. He was busy being temporarily blinded by the pain of his goddamned ankle. Didn't the entire country have any aspirin? Or at least some highly addictive hallucinogen of some kind? He was busily deciding which was preferable when it occurred to him that furthermore, by earning Makoto's trust once again, he was bound to earn himself an opportunity for escape. Yes, his cooperation was entirely for the greater good.

Rough wet fabric found one of the more precariously-there scrapes on his back. He knew Makoto was doing it on purpose. Dammit, he _knew_! He had to be wary of that hand on his left shoulder, creeping farther towards his neck— there was a certain likelihood that it might attempt to crush his windpipe at any moment. But did his archenemy have the balls to go through with it? That was the question…

And there it was! Oh, he knew it all along; those fingers tightened, the washcloth disappeared and a hand replaced it on either side of his neck this was it he'd let him think he had the drop on him and right when he reveled in his assumed victory he'd break free and _drown him_ to hell with his ankle he'd find a way—!

"Eheheheheh…"

But what was this? It never came, despite the ominous pinch of his muscles as Makoto's fingertips dug into his shoulders.

"You should relax. You look like you could use it."

With the way his hands slid solidly along his skin, he could almost believe that he intended this to be _enjoyable_, the arrogant sack of—

"You know, you're really not that bad when you're not trying to conquer the world…"

Oh, hell.

"We know why the Alliance is being threatened now."

"Okay, then out with it!"

"They think," Makoto began, and by "they" he surely meant the Bugrom Empire, "they think that we captured you. They're demanding the return of their Great General et cetera or they're going to declare war."

Et cetera! Those were his _titles_ to sling around! They didn't deserve such a carefree dismissal! His fist clenched, no longer held back by tightly knotted rope as he lay on the bed. Oh, how Mizuhara Makoto would burn when he got out of here…

"You also have a hearing in two days in front of the Princesses. You get to stay here until then instead of the cells downstairs because you've been so cooperative!"

"God. The rapture," came his monotone response, a recently developed reflex in place of his standard raving.

Makoto folded his arms over his knees and continued. "Listen, Jinnai. I've always tended to see you as a friend—"

LIAR. You're LYING. Don't LIE, Makoto.

"—I don't want to see you die, no matter what's happened in the past! So… I'm gonna help you as much as I can. I-I mean, I trust Princess Rune and Princess Fatora— er, well, mostly Princess Rune, but they don't _know_ you like I do!"

"But why?!" he interjected, understandably incredulous.

"Well, I…" 

He scooted a little closer then, diffidently reaching out and toying with the man's tie. Jinnai was not amused.

"Don't finish that sentence. Ever."

 Sigh. Mizuhara sighed frequently. _Trying to get a little pity, are you?_ "So… even if I have to use my influence in some way…"

Jinnai couldn't help but cock a brow, dubious curiosity cracking his antagonistic mask. "What kind of influence?"

"Ah, well, see… Princess Fatora likes to impersonate me sometimes, and…"

It seemed that Makoto lived well up to his perception after all. As if anything else was to be expected.

Due to their abysmal lack of troops, the Bugrom invasion proved to be an empty threat. Having snuck a surreptitious message to the Hive via Wakame's visit two weeks prior, he offered absolutely no argument to Diva's assumption that he had initially been captured but assured her that he was, by cleverly playing the turncoat, slowly but surely gathering valuable information on Roshtaria's tactical weaknesses and would return in due time.

In reality, he was still confined to the palace, but he was now permitted to leave that infernal room and could walk now, unaided. Well, everyone but Jinnai considered it a limp, but he was hardly that feeble! He'd just kill them later. The point was the plan was _there_, and it was a hair's breadth from being played out! It'd just take a while to prepare, that was all. It was just that brilliantly refined. Perhaps the most important part of said preparation was that Makoto _trusted_ him now, and trust was a most powerful weapon indeed. All it ever took to maintain it was a certain measure of civility, which constituted little more than a smile, a pat on the back, or a head in his lap as he resignedly declared his undying affection. That and the sex. 

O god, how he stood now, tall and proud on the edge of victory!

_~fin_


End file.
